


To All the Els I've Loved Before

by arcadesintheneighbourhood



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Also kind of inspired by Lola and the Boy Next Door?, Alternate Universe, Eleven/Mike Wheeler-Centric, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Holly Wheeler and Karen Wheeler are featured somewhat prominently, Mike Wheeler Loves Eleven, To All The Boys I've Loved Before Inspired AU, Wheeler Family Centric, fake dating au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 13:52:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13683015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcadesintheneighbourhood/pseuds/arcadesintheneighbourhood
Summary: Mike and El stopped being best friends and neighbors two years ago, but when Holly Wheeler decides to send all of Mike's love letters out, they find a way to come together again.





	To All the Els I've Loved Before

As Mike pedaled down Maple Street, the smell of grass wafted up through the air and hit him like a wave of nostalgia. It was always the beginning of fall, when summer turned into autumn, when Mike felt the most longing for his childhood, when he thought of scraped knees and musky basements and adventures through soaked dirt and tall trees. It was always the smell of grass that made his chest pang about the ending of it all when their middle school summer turned into freshman year fall and it was times like these, when memories folded Mike like a warm, lost blanket, when his hands itched to write on his blue Post-it notes.

 

Pulling into the driveway of the white house with the black shutters, Mike propped his bike up against the garage wall and dashed across the first floor to the stairs.

 

“Michael!” His mom called exasperatedly from the kitchen as he whizzed past her. “Don’t you want to eat something?”

 

Oh, shoot. Mike backtracked the first few stairs to the kitchen, where a large plate of chocolate chip cookies sat waiting for him on the island.

 

“Hi, Mom!” Mike greeted as he shoved two cookie handfuls into his jacket pockets. The early September air had warmed his hands, causing the chocolate to stain his fingers as he grabbed them. Quickly, he wiped his palms onto his jeans before he reached for the plate again.

 

“Michael! Wash your hands!” His mom scolded him as he took another cookie and scarfed it down. “What are you in such a rush for?”

 

“Nothing, nothing! Everything’s fine, Mom!” He insisted, licking the leftover cookie crumbs at the corner of his mouth. Mmmmm… so good. Did everyone’s mom make cookies like his did?

 

“Okay,” His mom weighed the word carefully, her eyebrows scrunched in doubt. “Well, do you want to sit down and talk about your day? I have milk in the fridge if you want to wash those down.”

 

“Maybe later, Mom, okay?” His voice flipped up as he rushed through his words. “I have to do something right now, but I’ll be here for dinner.” He leaned over and gave her a swift kiss on the cheek. “See you later!”

 

He ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs, realizing halfway up that he forgot something.

 

Did he forget something?

 

Oh, right.

 

“Love you mom!” He called back quickly.

 

Once he reached his room, Mike locked the door and walked over to the secret hiding place underneath his bed. He glanced around one last time to make sure no one was looking and dragged out the Death Star box Lucas had given him for his eighth birthday. He walked over to his desk, set the box down, and pulled out the stack of blue sticky notes with which he usually used to write.

 

“Day 667.” Mike scribbled before he lost the words entirely. “I thought of you today. I know it’s been a long time, but I just… thought of you.”

 

Mike’s eyebrows knitted together as he hunched his back over the note and read it again.

 

_I thought of you today. I just… thought of you._

He mouthed the words to himself obsessively, jiggling his leg up and down and rubbing his chocolate-stained hands on his pants. On the tenth time, he was midway through murmuring his scribbles when-

 

_Wait a second-_

 

He squinted his eyes to make sure he read the note correctly.

 

_Day 667._

 

“This is so stupid,” He mumbled to himself. I mean, had he really been doing this for 667 days? What was the point of it, even? He sealed the notes up and never gave them away, anyway. And he never would. Unless a miracle happened, there was no way they would even talk to each other again.

 

“Mike!” Dustin blared over the SuperCom, interrupting his spell of anxiety. “Mike, Mike, do you copy?”

 

Mike sighed and picked up the radio from the corner of his desk.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I copy.”

 

“Where the hell are you, man? You were supposed to come with the snacks twenty minutes ago! Over.”

 

“Shit, shit!” He glanced at his clock. 3:20. “Okay, I’ll be right there!”

 

“Come on, man, you’re supposed to bring the real Nilla wafers! Don’t leave me hanging!”

 

“Oh calm down, Dustin.” Mike rolled his eyes. Did he have to think about Nilla wafers all the time? “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

 

Mike pushed down the SuperCom’s antenna and sprinted back down to the kitchen. Luckily, it was empty. Oh, thank god. His mom was gone. Probably talking to Holly in the living room or something.

 

As he wheezed from the run from his room, Mike opened the kitchen cabinets and grabbed all the snacks he could carry- Oreos, trail mix… and the real Nilla wafers, duh. He took out the tote bag his mom used when she went grocery shopping and dumped all the snacks into in it. Once he had stuffed everything in there, he began hauling the bag to his bike when he noticed one last chocolate chip cookie on the kitchen counter.

 

 _You know, one more couldn’t hurt_ , Mike thought. He snatched it from the plate and was resuming his exit from the kitchen when his mom emerged from the living room with a wine glass in her hand.

 

“Michael, what are you doing?” She asked in reprimanding tone.

 

“Just going to Lucas’! I’ll be back soon!”

 

“Michael, are you eating another cookie? Did you leave _any_ for Holly?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“The cookies!” His mom shouted. Her face flushed red with anger, just like the time she found out he’d cussed out Mr. Kowalski in the ninth grade. Uh oh, Mike thought. That’s not good. “Did you leave some for Holly?”

 

She angrily ripped a note off the plate that read, “HOLLY’S COOKIE. DO NOT TOUCH.”

 

“Oh, shoot, I was supposed to?” Whoops, Mike thought. My bad.

 

“MICHAEL!” His mom yelled back.

 

“I promise I’ll make some more after I get back from Lucas’!” Mike hurried through his words to speed their conversation along. He _had_ to get to Lucas’ ASAP, otherwise he’d never hear the end of Dustin’s whining about the Nilla Wafers. Ever. Besides, Holly would probably get more cookies tomorrow. His mom made them practically everyday. “See you later, love you mom!”

 

“Okay, well are you still going to be home for dinner or-”

 

_SLAM._

Of course Karen didn’t get to finish her sentence.

 

“Michael!” Karen called out in case he could hear her. “MICHAEL!” She called out louder again, but she knew it was pointless. Mike had already hopped onto his bike and pedaled up the street. He was long gone, probably on another one of his adventures. He _always_ was on one of his adventures, she thought, as she buried her head in her hands, sighed, and took another swig of her Chardonnay.

 

* * *

 

As Mike pedaled back up Maple Street, the smell of nostalgia didn’t hit him until he reached Lucas’ and leaped off his bike.

 

“Finally!” Mike turned around and heard Lucas’ voice as he strolled towards him. “Man, where the hell have you been?”

 

“Sorry, sorry, I just got distracted,” He lied, the guilt hurting his head as the words tumbled out of his mouth. Friends didn’t lie, and especially not them… it was the most important rule in their party. On the other hand, he knew what Lucas would say if Mike told him he had been writing. To keep his mind off Lucas' neighbor, he eyed the Sinclairs’ front door, expecting his friends to pile out with rousing cries of ‘Ehhhh Mike! Did you bring my Nilla Wafers,’ ‘Hi, Mike, good to see you!’ and ‘Hey idiot, good job being the latest one even though you live down the street’ but weirdly enough, they were nowhere to be seen.

 

“Where are Dustin, Will and Max?” He asked. Usually by now they’d be hugging him and offering to carry his snack bag.

 

“Inside setting up. Get this,” Lucas started, lifting his hands up to make the waving motions he did when he was excited. “Will’s mom brought us three giant bags of Milky Ways!”

 

“Three giant bags of Milky Ways?” Mike repeated incredulously, though he couldn’t complain. Milky Ways were their favorite kind of candy. “How does she even have those? It’s not Halloween yet!”

 

“She used her employee discount! Man, Ms. Byers is the best.”

 

“Wait, did she bring Dustin Three Musketeers?” Mike questioned. Milky Ways weren’t even in Dustin’s top three, and he didn’t want Dustin to not have his favorite type of candy while they ate theirs.

 

“Of course!” Lucas cried. “She brought everything!”

 

“Dang, she really is the best!” Mike enthused. Lucas beamed back at him in mutual elation, and as they slapped their hands together, they heard the wide, open swing of The Cabin door.

 

Mike couldn’t help the turn of his head towards the neighboring house, the house with the raised porch and the deep brown paint and the forest green windowsills, the house out of which came Eleven, walking towards the mailbox with her combat boots thudding against the pavement. _Please look at me, please look at me, please look at me,_ Mike pleaded inside his head. He so badly wanted their eyes to meet. It had been almost two years since they had, and he missed them. He missed the meeting of their wide, brown eyes, hers with that open and vulnerable and understanding nature he could find in no one else’s. He desperately wanted to see them again- he was starting to forget what they looked like.

 

As he watched her fiddle with the mailbox, his eyes drew up from her combat boots to her baggy jeans to her dark jacket to her eyes, darkened by black eye shadow and eyeliner. She dressed punk now, which she didn’t do when they were friends, but Mike didn’t care. He liked it- well, he always liked how she looked- plus, how she dressed on the outside mirrored how she felt on the inside, and she was always kind of a badass, wasn’t she?

 

As Mike’s heart tinged with yearning, he felt the short, hard tap of Lucas’ finger in his shoulder, snapping him out of it.

 

“Come on, man, don’t do this.”

 

“Huh? Don’t do what?” He faked oblivion, though he knew better than anyone that a man on the moon could’ve seen his widened eyes at El. And he was still gazing at her.

 

“Come on, man,” Lucas hit Mike’s shoulder lightly with the back of his hand. “You know I miss her too but it’s been so long. It’s almost been two years.”

 

_Day 667._

 

“You’re right,” Mike cleared his throat, breaking his eyes away from the house next door. El was going inside, anyway. He shook his head so he could get himself out of the moment but as he followed Lucas inside to the Sinclair’s, but he couldn’t help but notice-

 

The air smelled more deeply of grass than ever.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I'd post the start of this fic as a little Valentine's Day gift for all my Stranger Things fans so Happy Valentine's Day everyone!!! This story was inspired by a series of headcanons I wrote on tumblr via request by vikingtealight (yall should go read her stories btw!!! they are amazing) and I drew inspiration from a lot of sources too! Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think in the comments section!


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